it doesn't rain anymore
by blairswaldorfs
Summary: lying comes easy to girls like alison.


**notes |** wow that finale. also i need more pll fandom friends. _i always need more_. also emotions because while this alison may be alive, another allison is dead so if you also happen to watch teen wolf _be my friend_.

—-—

_alison, you're a liar.  
_

_do you know what happens to girls that lie?_

_they die. _

_kisses! -a. _

—-—

(lying comes easy to girls like alison).

—-—

It's when it rains she's reminded of Emily. Brown locks, and smooth skin. Blue water; ripples as long arms speed across it, trying to reach the finish line. _Come on, Em! You can do it_. Secret kisses shared between them, lips pressing lightly, teasing; trailing, the taste of Emily's favourite lip gloss still stuck in Alison's mouth like a sweet aftertaste. The bitter remarks stinging in her mind like a bad memory; a bad trip, champagne mixed with beer. All the regrets, all the losses and Emily was (had always) been her favourite.

Rain splatters against the window, a pearly smile flashing in Alison's mind; a party and bad jokes and a roll of eyes as she repeats that she has practice, must _practice practice practice_. She doesn't need to be the best of the best like Spencer; but she needs to be the _best_ (at swimming). Fingers curled around a cup of coffee, eyes closed as she hums along to an old song playing on the radio. She'd give anything to be back in Rosewood right now, with Emily.

It's always like this when it rains. It was raining that night she kissed Emily, scandalous, wasn't it? Sitting in a library, backs pushed against shelves. Innocent lips caressing each other, careful, Emily's a little nervous and Alison knows exactly what's about to happen. Leaning in — Alison remembers it all, in complete utter detail. Every moment, every touch, feels like it had happened only yesterday. She doesn't really like to think about it at all; she's just reminded of all her mistakes, all the things she has to miss out on.

_Come home, _Emily pleads, (again and again and again). _It's not that simple!_ Doesn't Emily see? Blind to the obvious truth, blind to the fact that somebody tried to _kill _Alison. Shaking in fear, even now; every corner she turns, are they there? waiting for me, like i'm their prey? weak and vulnerable, easy to catch? Sick of being scared, she's sick of everything that this person has cost her.

It's when it rains she's reminded of Emily. Emily is sadness, she's regret, she's swimming, she's secret kisses, she's pain, she's the girl that always saw her best side, she's everything that rain embodies for her. Cosy, warm, sweet, an old jumper thrown on. That's what Emily is; what Emily reminds Alison of.

—-—

Bored, that's what she was the day she met Ezra Fitz. Bored as Cece flirted up a storm, batting eyelashes left, right and center, trying to prove a point to Alison that she was _over _Jason, or something. Hands around someones waist, Alison watched from atop her stool as she surveyed the crowd populating the bar tonight. Boring, boring, boring. Everything seemed to bore her lately; until her eyes landed on some boy with a mop of messy brown hair that seemed to be reading a book while in a _bar_.

It was innocent at first, few dates, lies tumbling out of her mouth as her wrist flicked as she placed cake in her mouth. He sipped on beer, and she wrote tales in her diary. Read them aloud to him as she laid on his chest, he ran fingers through blonde curls and she told him that she and Cece were roommates. He ate it all up, small kisses and big dreams for a book that she never really believed in but; _dedicate your book to me, have a character with blonde hair and a wicked smile and she's everything — _His kisses always kissed off the rest of her wishlist.

Ezra was everything a whirlwind forbidden romance is supposed to be. _Fun_, until it wasn't fun anymore. Summer was dwindling down; Ian was breaking up with Melissa and Ezra was finally starting to get a clue.

where r u? looked at ur dorm u werent there. the text read, Alison rolled her eyes at Ezra's desperate attempts for her heart. He's not going to own it, nobody is going to own it. She locked it up in a cage a long time ago, the only key she'll ever give out will be to Emily. _Maybe_.

Alison may of been bored when she met Ezra, but Ezra is boring her now. It's always poetry and romance and great literature that _no one understands_ and nobody understands Ezra but Alison understands him perfectly fine. He's a pretentious prick. Instead of telling him to leave, she kisses him, _kisses kisses kisses _because Alison is good at kisses. Like she's good at lying.

Ezra's good at detective work it turns out, because he unravels her lies and finds out her age and dumps her the night someone throws a rock at her head. Or something like that.

—-—

Alison is sick of running; she'll never be sick of lying, though. It's lonely when she runs, with nobody to talk to but herself. It gives her time to think, to reflect and nothing really makes sense to her anymore. Mona might of had a good idea, but now she's too trapped in this life to escape; fearing that she'll be killed (again) but maybe death wouldn't be as lonely as this.

It could offer her comfort. The blonde twists her fingers nervously as she waits at the train station, another train, and a new life to begin. She'll adopt Vivian Darkbloom once more, hands combing through brown locks. Maybe she'll even go to school, this time. Instead of ordering online courses and hoping for the best.

She needs a job, though. She reminds herself, because when you're on the run. You have to look after yourself. Alison breaks down and cries on a bench as she waits for a train. She doesn't want this fucking life. She wants to trick boys and trick girls and trick everyone. Needs to be the center of attention, demanding everything and plotting against everyone.

What's worst is that she misses people. (Read: Emily Fields, owner of her heart). This isn't her, this isn't Alison, and this isn't what she wants. So she changes her ticket to Ravenswood and changes her brown hair for her blonde locks and her blue top for a red coat. Missing the girls, means spying on the girls. Maybe she'll have a chance to talk to Mona, the only one that knows that she's alive.

—-—

"I didn't want to run!" Alison shouts at Emily. Another fight, it's always the same. Emily paces back and forth and back and forth. They share an apartment now, the days are long and the fights are rough and it's _always _about the past. Alison thought Emily could forgive, but she still hurts.

"I thought you were dead!" Emily cries. Alison had almost forgotten that her first (her second) love had died, Maya, was it? That to lose her was just another reminder of losing Alison, that all these deaths led back to her.

No amount of kisses and lying could fix this. Nothing could fix this. So Alison drowns, and Emily floats. Or Emily drowns, and Alison floats. Alison is so long past caring, she runs again. Kisses her life goodbye, because there's nothing better than a fresh start, she'll say with pearly white teeth.

—-—

_a/n: _i've had this setting in my drafts since the finale and wow, i don't even know what this is. it's so bad.


End file.
